


Itsy Bitsy Spider

by Darby_Harper



Category: Rammstein
Genre: Gen, humor!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2015-06-02
Packaged: 2018-04-02 13:35:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4061926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darby_Harper/pseuds/Darby_Harper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An eight legged uninvited guest brings chaos to the recording studio.</p><p> </p><p>Disclaimer: <i><b>Any similarity between the fictional version of the person portrayed here and the actual person is purely coincidental. This is a work of fiction. This is not an attempt to defame the character of said person on the basis of libel, as the work is FICTIONAL (and NOT an intently false statement created with the express purpose of misleading others about the actual character of said person). All rights reserved</b></i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Itsy Bitsy Spider

**Author's Note:**

I never knew our drummer could scream so loud. Or scream in a range that only sopranos in the opera could hit, either.

_“SHITSHITFUCKFUCKSPIDERSPIDERSPIDERHOLYSHITSPIDER!”_

 Richard poked his head out of the studio’s bathroom and gave me a look. “Ollie? What the hell has gotten into Schneider?”

 “I dunno. Schneider, what in the world are you going on about?”

 “SHIT SHIT FUCK FUCK BIG FUCKING _SPIDER!_ ”

 I’m not so fond of the creepy crawlies myself but not like Schneider is. If you even _hint_ there’s a spider within a five mile radius, he’ll all but turn himself inside out running away from it. When he shared a flat with Paul, Flake and I way back when, we spent more time having to rescue spiders from Schneider than vice versa. Paul couldn’t stand to kill one, so he’d have to scoop the poor thing into a container and deposit it as far outside the building as he could get, else Schneider would completely lose his mind. Till made the mistake once of dropping a plastic spider down the back of his shirt, not knowing at the time how much of an arachnaphobe Schneider is.

 He only did that once.

 I didn’t think anyone could flatten Till with one punch but our drummer did. Till went down like a ton of bricks and Schneider probably would have waited for him to come to so he could punch him again had he not been ripping his shirt off to find the fake bug and stomp it into the ground. He didn’t speak to Till for almost a week afterward and it took almost a month for him to finally accept Till’s apology that he didn’t know how phobic he was about spiders and he’d never drop a spider, faux or otherwise, down his shirt or anywhere near him ever again.

 So, I pried myself out of my comfortable spot in a pool of sunlight that shone through the living room window, and headed down the short corridor to look for Schneider. I found him perched on top of the kitchen table, squatting down with his arms wrapped around his knees. He’s a tall, lanky guy to begin with and for him to be able to squish himself into such a small space is pretty impressive. His eyes were as wide as saucers as he pointed at the stove and screamed, “It’s under there, Ollie! The fucker is as big as a fucking dog and it’s got teeth and it’s gonna eat me up! Kill it, kill it, **_kill it!!!_** ”

 “Schneider, we’re not in Australia. Spiders don’t get that big here in Germany,” I tried to reason with him as I looked about the kitchen to find something to extract the spider from under the stove. I found a broom in a cupboard and a flashlight, then I got down on my knees to peer under the stove. “If I can, I’m going to dump it outside. Poor thing, you probably scared it more than it scared you.”

 “The hell you’re going to let it go!” Schneider yelled. “If you don’t kill it, it’ll come back in the middle of the night and bite me! Or eat me for dinner, whichever comes first!”

 “For the love of God,” I heard Till’s grumbling as he comes into the kitchen. “Schneider, you can be such a _girl_ sometimes. It’s probably a tiny little spider.”

 “It. Is. **NOT**. It’s as big as your bloody hand, Till! And it’s got huge fangs on it!”

 “What the hell is all the yelling about?” Paul said as he joined the four of us in the kitchen, Flake right behind him. “Schneider, why are you up on the kitchen table?”

 “Spider, I take it?” Flake asked our drummer, who had compacted himself into a space so small I thought he’d pop out of existence if he squeezed himself any harder. Schneider only nodded his head, then tucked his head down into his arms and whined, “So what if I’m a guy who’s deathly afraid of spiders. Ollie doesn’t like ‘em either!”

 “Yeah but Ollie’s not up on the kitchen table screaming like a little girl,” Flake said. “By the way, why are you so afraid of spiders? You’ve never told us.”

 “A cousin of mine who’s five years older than me thought it was funny to lock me in the bathroom at his house when I was little. He lived in this ancient house that was full of bugs of all kinds, and there were about ten big spiders up in the bathroom’s ceiling with these huge webs full of their prey. Two of the spiders had just hatched out their eggs and they were everywhere. I was okay until they started falling out of the webs and onto me and I’ve been terrified of them ever since,” Schneider explained, shuddering so hard I would have sworn he moved the table across the floor. “And when we went to Australia for the first time, there were _herds_ of those nuclear-fucking-spiders all over the damn place and they came after me!”

 I poked around under the stove for several minutes and didn’t come up with a thing, so I got up off the floor and put the broom and flashlight away. “If there was something under the stove, it’s long gone by now,” I said. “Your screaming your head off probably scared it into someone else’s house.”

 Schneider slowly unwrapped his arms from around his knees and began to unfold his long legs, carefully sliding down from the kitchen table. He was poised for flight if the arachnid showed up again. He peered around my shoulder, making sure the bug hadn’t sneaked up on me while I wasn’t looking, then let out a gusty sigh. He patted me on the shoulder, and with a glare that could have melted lead pointed at Till and Flake, stomped out of the kitchen.

 By this point, Richard had made his way to the kitchen. He looked around and said, “What was Schneider screaming his head off about?”

 “Spiders,” Till replied, pulling out one of the kitchen chairs and settling onto it. “I’d forgotten how much they freaked him out.”

 Richard’s face suddenly paled under his faint tan and he started backing away from the kitchen. “Spider? Where?” he said in a shaking voice. “You guys know I don’t like them either!”

 “Hang on there, Rich, it’s gone,” I said. “I poked around under the stove and nothing came out. If there had been a spider it’s probably halfway to Belgium by now with only half of its hearing from the way Schneider was screaming.”

 “I hope so! ‘Cause if it comes back and can’t find Schneider, it’ll look me up and chomp a big hole in _me!_ ” Richard snapped.

 Flake rolled his eyes and sighed. “You both know that most house spiders are more afraid of you than you are of them, right?”

 “ _Shut_. **_Up_.** ” Richard said , glaring at Flake and daring him to open his mouth again. Flake threw up his hands and left the room, growling something under his breath that I couldn’t make out. I stifled a laugh and left the kitchen, wanting to get back to the book I’d been reading before I’d been called out on spider extermination duty.

 Several days passed and I’d completely forgotten the spider incident. We were gathered around the kitchen table one evening, finishing up dinner and trying to decide if the day was too far gone to start anything new in the studio or not. Till was on clean up duty that night, so he was gathering up the plates and glassware when he froze in place, a hiss coming from between his clenched teeth. For a second, I thought maybe his bad knee had gone out of place or froze up on him, so I stood up and went to his side to take the dishes away from him.

 “Ollie, don’t move,” he whispered.

 “Huh? What the...” I whispered back, then looked in the same direction he was staring in. What met my eyes made my stomach drop to the floor. I carefully took the dishes out of Till’s hands, set them on the stove and together, we backed up and past the rest of the band who were looking at us as if we’d lost our minds. I was hoping that neither Richard nor Schneider had seen what we were gaping at because I didn’t think hearing both of them scream in a tiny room would be very good for anyone’s hearing.

 Oh boy, I was wrong. The second those two caught sight of what was sitting on the edge of the kitchen sink, they screamed so loud I thought the glassware in the cabinets was going to shatter. Richard threw himself out of his chair and ran for the door, while Schneider sat, frozen, eyes so wide I thought they were going to pop out of his head. Paul and Flake, who normally didn’t seem to be afraid of spiders, shot out of their seats and got behind Till and me. As if being _behind_ us was going to help matters!

 Poised on the edge of the kitchen sink, as pretty as you please, was the biggest spider I’d ever seen. Its body, without including the legs, was as big around as two nice-sized grapes put together. With its legs, it was twice that size if not larger. It didn’t move, just sat and stared at us,

 “I am not going to try and shoo that monstrosity out of the house!” I said. “It would grab the broom and hit me over the head with it!”

 “Where in the world did that come from?” Till asked, his voice a shade below a shriek. For a guy who lives on a farm, I thought nothing creepy-crawly would freak Till out but he was as pale as a sheet. “I’ve never seen a spider that big except in a zoo!”

 “I…don’t…care…who…kills…it…just… ** _DO IT!_** ” Schneider yelled as he slid around the kitchen table and proceeded to scale the stand-alone cabinet that odds and ends from the kitchen were kept in. It was very close to the ceiling and I thought he’d not have enough room to stuff his lanky body into such a small space, but Schneider made it.

 “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Flake snapped, grabbing the morning newspaper and rolling it up into a tight cylinder. He lined up on the spider and with a mighty swing, walloped the bug off of the edge of the sink and down onto the floor. He started to stomp on it when suddenly, the spider shot across the kitchen at top speed, headed for Paul, who was leaning against the doorframe, laughing himself sick at us. I didn’t think spiders could run that fast but I can honestly say Paul set the land speed record running out of the house, screaming at the top of his lungs with the spider hot on his heels. As soon as he was gone, the spider turned around and began trotting towards the cupboard. It stopped, sized up how far it would have to climb to get to Schneider, and began its ascent.

 “Jump, Schneider!” Till yelled, reaching up to grab one of our drummer’s flailing arms. He didn’t give Schneider a second to unfurl himself from his spot, Till simply jerked Schneider through the air, caught him around the waist and slung him through the door, all without his feet touching the floor. The rest of us were out of the house right behind Schneider, Paul and Richard, all of us yelling at the tops of our lungs. Once we were outside, we found Paul, Richard and Schneider huddling on top of a picnic table in the front lawn.

 “Move your ass!” I growled, shoving my way up onto the table between Richard and Paul. Till wasn’t far behind me and almost squashed Richard as he piled onto the table; Flake simply leapt through the air like a mad ballerina and landed on top of all of us. If any of our fans or the press could have seen us at that point, we’d have been laughed clear off of the planet. With snarls, the occasional shove and well-placed elbow, we sorted ourselves out on the table, moving carefully as we could as the table obviously wasn’t built for the combined weight of six Germans, even if one of them was as skinny as a rail.

 “This is fucking stupid,” Richard snapped.

 “Okay brave guy, _you_ go back in there and kill it!” Schneider growled, slapping Richard in the back of his head. “Maybe it won’t eat you for dinner.”

 “For the last time, Schneider, that thing isn’t big enough to eat you. Bite you, maybe but make you into dinner?” Till grumbled, poking me in the ribs with an elbow that was a lot pointier than it looked. “Ollie, you seemed to have some success with it earlier, why don’t you go back in there and try convincing that spider to leave?”

 “Oh no you don’t! The only thing that’s going back in that place is an exterminator!” I said, shoving Till in the ribs with my own pointy elbow. “I may not be as phobic as Schneider or Risch is, but I’m not going back in there and having that bastard bite me!”

 “Fine, then!” Paul said from his seat in Richard’s lap. “We’ll call the exterminator’s and they’ll take care of it. So, who has their mobile?”

  _Oh. Shit._

 “Looks like we’re waiting for Emu to come back from his trip,” Flake said with a deep sigh. “Let’s hope his flight isn’t delayed, else we’re going to be out here all night.”

 Luck wasn’t on our side. It was very late that night by the time Emu arrived, and when he did, the jerk almost had a heart attack laughing at us, crowded on the picnic table and looking just _slightly_ annoyed. He threatened to take pictures of us and put them up on the website, and only Till’s growl of “If you do that, I will break you into tiny pieces and hand feed that fucking spider in the house! GET IT OUT OF THE HOUSE NOW!” stopped Emu from doing what he threatened.

 “All right, all right, let me go see how big this spider is…”

 A few minutes later, we heard a yell, then something hard and heavy crashing against the floor. Emu came out of the house, looking quite smug, saying, “I dropped a cast-iron frying pad on the damn thing, then I stomped on that. If it’s not dead, nothing short of nuking it from orbit is going to kill it.”

 Slowly, we clambered off of our perch and tiptoed into the house, all senses wide awake and alert. We crept into the kitchen, holding our breath and hoping that we wouldn’t be carpet bombed by the spider’s friends that had come to avenge their kin. Till was the first to spot the frying pan on the floor, a wide spatter of goo around it and one skinny, crooked spider leg poking from under the rim of the pan. It twitched, once, then was still. He nudged the pan with the toe of his boot, moving it slightly to reveal that our nemesis was absolutely, truly dead. “Well,” he sighed, poking the pan back into its original spot. “Since I’m used to cleaning up after dead things, I’ll take care of this.”

 “No, no, I’ll do it for laughing at you guys,” Emu said, going to the cupboard and pulling out a roll of paper towels and a bottle of bleach. Shooing us out of the kitchen, we made our way to the living room and after carefully, thoroughly making sure there were no spiders waiting to ambush us, we sat down and stared at each other. I finally couldn’t stand the silence any longer and grabbed the remote for the TV and snapped it on, hoping to find something that would take our minds off of being chased out of the house by a bug. I finally stopped on a news station for the lack of anything better to watch, and was numbly staring at the screen when something the newscaster was saying caught my attention.

 “In nature news today, scientists are ecstatic over the discovery of a new type of spider that was once thought to be extinct in Europe. The spider, known in the zoological world as “ _Arachnis Splendifora,_ ” hasn’t been seen in the wild for well over a century. The spiders, according to old records kept on zoo specimens, are relatively quiet and docile for all that they’re one of the biggest spiders in the arachnid kingdom, can be quite aggressive when their webs are disturbed, especially when the female is carrying eggs. And also, unlike other spiders, the females will tolerate another female in their territory but only while they are carrying eggs. They are one of the very few arachnids that will guard newly-hatched spiders; most do not. They are not poisonous but their bite can be painful. Here to talk a bit more about…”

 I clicked the TV off and looked over at Schneider, whose face was snow white, blue eyes wide and panicky. Without a word, he tiptoed out of the living room and was back outside in the blink of an eye. Richard followed him just as quietly, the rest of us trailing behind. We retook our places on the picnic table and waited to see what would happen if Emu happened upon another one of our unwelcome spider guests.

 We didn’t have to wait long. Emu came staggering out the front door, waving his hands and trying to speak and failing. He looked at us, and with a strangled shriek, said, “I am going home. And calling an exterminator from there. Or…fuck that, I’m calling the zoo. Let the experts take care of them, they’d probably eat some poor exterminator. Would you gentlemen like a ride to the nearest hotel?”

 I swear as we pulled away from the house, there were two huge spiders standing on the porch, waving goodbye and holding little signs that said, “Spiders=2, Rammstein=0.”


End file.
